Disclaimer: When pigs fly

Henry is the one who shows him.

Emma makes sure Killian has all the pragmatic knowledge of the 21st century (showers, cell phones, google, photographs, the microwave, and light bulbs) and fills him in on contemporary culture via Thursday movie nights with her kid, her pirate, and herself bundled up with pizza and Netflix.

(Hook had been first. Henry had demanded it.)

Her father, of all people, teaches him how to drive and Granny shows him how to navigate an updated kitchen. Regina, of all people, is who he forms his palette from.

(He would die for Swan, but even that will not convince him that a poptart is food,)

However, it is Henry who teaches him to like the Land Without Magic. Henry, with his old soul and endless beliefs. It is he who plans the trip to the aquarium in Baltimore, and Emma had never seen Hook's eyes so wide, nose to the glass as the many Comb Jellyfish electrify their cylindric tank in the backlit room. He had grabbed Emma's arm, towing her around the many tanks and gleefully pointing out various creatures with more enthusiasm than the perky volunteer tour guides. He had stopped to read every panel, documenting the words into the steel-trap brain of his.

(She had plans to take him to Trivia Night at the Rabbit Hole one day. She'd make a killing.)

They had finally left when he got a little pushy with some third-grade class to view the sharks, but even as Emma toted him out with rapid steps and apologetic smiles to security, Hook hadn't stopped babbling about "the bloody brilliant lionfish' and 'do you know than an average cuttlefish had thirty-four different polyphenisms to communicate!' In fact, the boyish, delighted smile stayed on his face all day and Emma's son had given her a satisfied smirk.

Henry, who was raised without magic but dreamed of knights and castles. Henry, who understood what it was to crave, and how to find, everything magical in this realm.

So it's the aquarium and the planetarium a month later.

("Swan, gods above, the stars.")

It was the beautiful and the familiar: the Naval Academy in Annapolis. A crawfish crawl in New Orleans. Sailing on Sunday mornings.

And little by little, Henry made Killian fall in love with his new home.

And then, there had been scavenger hunts.

Geocaching had been a bust. His naval and pirate sensibilities had seemed offended at the idea that he would need a bloody screaming contraption to navigate his way.

Scavenger hunts though, Henry had hit the proverbial jackpot with those.

His first one was contained in their house, Henry haven set an alarm to wake even before the pre-dawn pirate. He had written little literary clues on colourful post-it notes and Emma had woken to watch Killian skulk around the kitchen, a Treasure Island quote in hand and opening cabinets to mutter something about 'Yo-ho-ho indeed. Poor form lad, using the rum.'

She merely moved his shoulder to get to the coffee and watched as Hook, dread pirate of the seven seas, triumphantly held out the bottle of amber liquid hidden by a teenager and snatched the next clue off it with all the swagger of his namesake.

Emma buried her face in the coffee to keep from rolling her eyes.

It had taken Killian approximately twenty more minutes before he finished Henry's scavenger hunt, his typical eggs order from Granny's waiting for him in a bag at the end.

She had sourly thought, for just a moment, that if her son was going to bribe Ruby for food he could have picked up something for her as well, but then she had seen Hook's eyes.

Jesus Fucking Christ. He was a kid at Christmas, clutching the to-go back like it was-

"It's a Treasure Hunt, Swan!" Oh my God he was practically giggling. "A Treasure Hunt."

And thus, scavenger hunts became a thing.

The first one, Killian had sent Emma to unknowingly collect all of the items for a midnight picnic on the Jolly for a lovely date. It had been sweet and lovely and made her cheeks stretch till they hurt.

He had attempted to make her hunt for coffee one morning, and ended up with an elbow in the ribs and a succinct, 'Caffeine is sacred, Hook. Don't ever touch it again'.

All in all, Emma enjoyed the games if only because they seemed to make him so happy. This man, who had given up his past life, his entire identity, and his ship for her. This man who had died and come back for her. This man, who stayed.

So yeah, she didn't mind the scavenger hunts all that much. Not when the real reward was the dorky grin on her pirate's face.

This though, this was a little much.

He had been gone for two weeks. Two fucking weeks hunting some clue to David's long-lost father (who may or may not be alive, what was her life?) She was the one who found the name, listed in an apartment in Portland, using old bailbond skills. However, both men had insisted that they would be the ones to track it down as:

"What would Storybrooke do without it's Saviour?"

Also known as, Emma was pregnant and needed to be treated like an invalid.

She couldn't truly hate them for it. David had lost both his children at birth, so his paranoia was fairly warranted. And Killian...well, he tried not to smother her but she woke late at night to an empty bed and found the pirate reading over pamphlets for Fetal Alcohol Syndrome or Zika. He never once tried to bench her, but Will had drunkenly thrown a punch at her in the early stages and it took her and David to keep Hook from killing him. She had gone for a late night walk one night after leaving the sheriff's station, only realizing she had left her phone there when she hit the docks. By the time she returned, the lights were on and she heard a familiar, frantic voice on the phone:

"-She's not here mate. Have you checked by the-" Killian turned when she entered the station, dropping the phone and staring at her and fuck, those were tears in his eyes.

So Emma tried to be patient with Killian too, when he slipped something green into her grilled cheese or refused to leave her alone in the bathroom after another bout with the porcelain god, if only because he was so clearly terrified and trying to desperately not to be.

But it had been two goddamn weeks without him and now that she was showing, everyone else in this town had been unbearable. Emma gave her father and the father of her child the right to be a touch overprotective, not every blasted citizen in Storybrooke. Ruby had seemingly turned a deaf ear and always served her salad instead of onion rings. Leroy wouldn't let her carry anything over ten pounds if he spotted her. Belle kept subtly slipping in pregnancy books into her stack of crime dramas. Her mother had wanted to photograph her growing girth and make a scrapbook out of it. Which, while Emma caught her mother a lot of slack too, had made her put her foot down and no amount of 'but-we-missed-everything-the-first time' doe eyes would convince her otherwise.

("The kid does not need to know how fat she made me."

"Oh, Emma you're not fat, you're glowing! Pregnancy is a beautiful thing."

"My ankles are the size of balloons and I spend half my mornings upchucking or eating mutant food concoctions. What the hell kind of pregnancy did you have?")

So it had been two weeks of everyone making her want to brain herself with a fork and okay, yeah she had missed the man. Hormones and all of that. All she really wanted to do was have Killian come home and curl up around him for a nap while read aloud and massaged her swollen feet. After she fucked him senseless.

Seriously, hormones were a bitch.

So when instead, she woke up on Wednesday to a little yellow note, it had taken her several minutes and deep breathing exercises not to throw a princess fit. She was Emma Swan, leather-wearing, badass bailbondsperson and Saviour of a whole fucking town. She had survived prison. Survived foster care. The motherfucking Underworld. She was not going to break because her one True Love, the father of her child, that rat bastard of a pirate and moron of a man-

Was sending her on a scavenger hunt to find him.

By the time she reached Archie's office for her second clue, Emma had calmed down. She remembered his megawatt grin, eyes twinkling as she puzzled through clues whenever he set one of these up. Really, what was another hour if it made him smile like that at her?

That thought had lasted the first three hours.

By the time she hit the mines, she was tempted to tear the damn note with a pickaxe and go pout at home until Hook decided to give up and came to find her. Would serve the damned pirate right.

But she really did want to see him. Like, as soon as humanly possible. With a sigh, Emma smoothed the note down and read,

No genie required to get what you desire.

Goddamnit, he nearly rhymed. Emma huffed and headed out of the mine to see what she could find.

Emma blamed the cold and the kid and the fact that she was fucking starving on why it took her so long to figure out what she was supposed to be headed to the wishing well in the woods. She figured that Killian hadn't planned on her barrelling through this thing without stopping for food, but she missed him. And it had been much warmer in the morning, hours ago, so her coat was light and she couldn't get it to zip around six-months of baby. She was pretty sure her toes had been cut off from circulation in her boots for hours and she was going to murder Hook right after she rode him. Screw reading time naps.

She really had to pee again (eighth time today) but Emma knew she was close to the well, so she scowled and pressed forward. This had to be the end. She had been at it all day. She would get to the well and Killian would be there and she could scream at him and kiss him and-

No one was there.

Her thoughts stopped and trance-like, she moved toward the well, spying instead of a pirate-

Another note.

She broke.

Without even reading it, Emma felt tears of frustration build in her eyes that she savagely fought down.

It's just the hormones. She told herself and she knew, knew that she was being irrational.

Her lover had planned a game he adored playing with her with a usually spectacular ending to make his homecoming special. He loved her and wanted to see her and-

She sniffled, freezing and exhausted and hungry and-she really had to go pee.

So with another sniffle, Emma fumbled with with the button on her pants for impatient minutes before waddling to the nearest tree and ducking behind it. She finished her business and it hurt her that she was pregnant and had just peed in the middle of the woods. The dark woods, because, well it was late afternoon falling into evening.

Emma plopped down, pulled her feet under her, pulled off her jacket to wrap it around like a blanket, and cried.

Killian was almost finished lighting the candles on his ship, the table set and food still steaming. He grinned to himself, glancing out the window and knowing that between her constant breaks for food and the privy, Swan should be arriving at the station soon.

He had originally wanted to surprise her with dinner on his ship, but he also knew that she might just go get bored and seek him there. Usually up for a challenge, pregnancy had Swan a touch more unpredictable. She had thrown an absolute fit when he asked to go in her place with David to Portland, but then had surprised him at the door by sucking him down before he left.

Shaking his head from that distracting memory, he cast around for his phone and smiled as her picture lit up the display. Gods, he had missed her. It has the longest amount of time they had spent apart since the Underworld. He pulled a little frown as worry churned his gut.

He knew Swan could take care of herself, but his history with pregnancy in the Enchanted Forest had made him anxious. He knew birth was much smoother here, but if anything happened to the two of them…

Killian swallowed. No, he knew better than to suffocate Emma. Any sign of overcrowding would send her into a hissing fit or make her withdraw completely. This entire scavenger hunt had been his idea as an olive branch. Proof that he trusted her to still best him, even if he had fought for her to stay in town two weeks ago. Truly, it had been torture sneaking into their bedroom to leave a note and not slip under the covers and wrap his arms around her.

But this was for Emma. To show that he respected her independence and wasn't going to try and intrude on her job. (That last show with Will had earned him a lecture and a half, but once Emma had announced her news to the town, the man himself had apologized, sincerely to him.) He believed in her. She was strong. She was fearless. She-

Had left him a voicemail.

Blinked at the missed call notification and message, Hook cocked his head. He knew she Swan preferred to text him rather than call so what could have been...his heart rate shot up and he snatched the device and rapidly pushed buttons before putting it to his ear.

Another villain was holding her for ransom. She was at the hospital, something was wrong with the baby-

Sniffle. "Killian, I hate you. I'm cold and my feet hurt and you led me to these godforsaken woods for some stupid game and I. AM. NOT. MOVING. Do you hear me, you bastard? You are going to come find me and take me to dinner, where I will eat actual goddamn grilled cheese without vegetables and with real butter because your kid is starving me and that well clue was moronic-"

She was fine. She was screaming at him and fine. He let out a soft exhale before inhaling sharply.

-Because something had clearly gone wrong if his pregnant lover was calling him: crying and cold from the middle of the woods. Bloody fuck, what had he done?

He spotted David's truck across the street and his legs were out the door before he registered movement. Small town sheriff, he had left the keys in the ignition as he ran into the grocery store.

Sorry mate, Hook grimaced as he commandeered the prince's vessel.

He had a princess to save.

The worst part of it was, Emma knew she was being ridiculous. She had Henry in prison, for god's sakes and hadn't had the luxury to bitch and shovel food in her face. Her thoughts were closer to don't get stabbed with a shiv.

But that seemed to be the problem, because Killian indulged her every whim. He was the one who ran out to the store at 3 a.m. because she needed a different brand of peanut butter. He held her hair back every take morning sickness hit, and often massaged sore places she hadn't even mentioned in bed. He seemed to have a sixth sense for when she was suddenly incredibly aroused and always satisfied her. He pulled her baths and made her lunches with stupid little notes and was simply wonderful. And if it wasn't him, it was David, failing to casually drop off tea at her desk if she couldn't keep food down. Or Henry, throwing out the most ridiculous baby names to get her to laugh when she felt unreasonably down. Even Regina was nicer to her these days. And it was all so different from last time, it was like they wanted her to have tantrums and act like the spoiled brat she certainly had never been and...and…

Hook just made it so easy to get used to that, to get used to being cared for without every implying that she was weak or incompetent. He was simply happy to do it, and now she was going soft. Getting used to his wam, one-handed hugs and little cheek kisses. She should stand up and march out of here, swollen ankles be damned. She was goddamn Emma Swan. She didn't need anyone to rescue her. She wouldn't give into crazy mood swings or asinine desires. She would just-

"Swan, Swan-EMMA!" His panicked voice rang out in the woods, followed by the sound of heavy footfalls crunching through the leaves.

The familiar tone made tears spring into her eyes again. Goddamnit, but she had missed him. He was close, she could tell, just rounding the well. She should raise a hand or give an indication of where she had burrowed into a large pine tree. She had all but demanded he come pick her up so she could make this easier on him.

Bitchiness won out and she stayed right where she was curled up, wiping furiously at her tears.

The scuttle of leaves got closer and then she felt a warm presence at her front, a gentle hand prying her hands from her face and cupping her jaw, thumb wiping at the moisture he found there. Emma met sky blue eyes for the first time in two weeks, a mixture of relief and concern in his expression.

"Swan?"

Instinctively, her cheek leaned against his warm touch and a kind of calm settled in her veins, stilling the tears and quelling the anger like a blanket draped over on a winter's day. A soft smile pinched her cheeks.

"Hi there, sailor."

Killian chuckled softly, still kneeling before her. His hand moved to wipe her left cheek and then right locks of hair that had gotten matted to her wet face.

"Hello there, love. I missed you."

Her chin wobbled at her words, and Emma bit down hard on her lips. Killian caught the movement and sighed, smiling softly as he moved to cradle her in his arms and pull her into his lap. The moment she was in his warm embrace, a sob tore from her throat unbidden. He shushed her at the sound, good hand drawing circles on her back as he simply held her.

"Hush now, lass. I'm here. What seems to be the problem, Swan?"

Emma sniffled pathetically and hated herself for it. "I just-I had to pee in the woods. And I'm cold and my feet hurt from walking all day and I didn't want to stop for food so I'm hungry and your kid is kicking my spleen to pieces and I hate having to use the bathroom fifty times a day and people keep touching my stomach and I missed you and you weren't here."

It comes out as a garbled mess, but Hook must catch the drift of it because he squeezes her tighter before releasing her to wrap his own leather jacket around her shoulders and thumbing the dimple on her chin. "Oh darling, I'm so sorry."

His look is so tender that she ducks against his shoulder to hide from it, burrowing herself in his warmth until the cold tip of her nose digs into his neck. He rubs warmth to her sides, going down to each limp hand to stroke life back into her cold fingers.

"It's fine. I'm just-I'm just letting the hormones win today. I know this is ridiculous. You don't need to apologize."

She felt the dimples that appeared on his cheek, the gentle kiss placed on her crown. "Love, you're growing a person. There is nothing ridiculous about your needs or desires."

It had been his excuse for all of it. Whenever she suggested that he stop indulging her insane requests, he would simply respond: you're growing a person, not able to keep the wonder out of his voice.

He simply stroked down her hair for a minute more, and Emma felt herself so calm she was nearly drowsy before she felt his hum against her temple. "Ah, here we go then."

He lifted her, completely in his lap, from his kneeling position. She scrambled.

"Killian-Hook, put me down. I'm a thousand pounds. You can't possibly-"

He winced when a distraught elbow caught the side of his cheek but his arms didn't relent as the brace secured under her ass and the hand braced across her back. Killian gave her a firm look. "You were hardly more than a slip of woman to begin with and are scarcely a thousand pounds now. I can and will most certainly carry the mother of my child out of the woods, where I left her, cold and with hurting feet."

He's moving now with all of his usual grace, as if she was no heavier than his satchel. Hs voice contains a mixture of concern and affection, and he nudged her to untuck her head to meet his furrowed brow.

"Love, did you truly not stop to break fast today?"

She swallowed, guilt welling up in her. Or nausea. "I just...I wanted to see you."

She scowled. All her talk of independence and she just admitted to forgetting to feed herself because she was pining for her boyfriend. Some saviour.

Hook uttered a low curse and quickened his steps. "Emma love, you're fortunate that you didn't faint in these woods. I know you're used to long stretches without proper nourishment or sleep, but please you must stop that."

(He had put his foot down after the Underworld. She had been chasing Hyde and avoiding the prophecy and terrifying herself away from visions and dreams and sleep. Hook let it run for days before she came home and he gave her a cup of tea with the usual smile on his face. She woke up fourteen hours later in their bed, well-rested, and the realization that he had totally drugged her. She came down furious but he simply cut her a diamond-hard look and asked,

"Am I to watch you run yourself to death without intervening?"

That had shut her up.)

Shame welled in her. She neglected her kid to chase after a pirate. Mother of the year.

"Swan, do not misunderstand me. This incident is my folly. I shouldn't have…" A displeased keening noise cleared his throat. "But when I muck up I need you to outwit me and do what's right...aye, Saviour?"

He's reached David's car and props her up on his brace to use his good hand to open the door and tuck her into both coats. His fingers caressed her jaw and Emma shook her head.

"It's not your fault. I should have just gone home and called you. I know how to take care of myself it's not like…I didn't need you to come. I shouldn't have called." Embarrassment and shame war to colour her cheeks.

Killian leans in to kiss her forehead. "I'm well aware sweetheart. But I like caring for you. So please let me, hm?"

She could only nod as he closed her car door, hopping into the other side and blasting the heat. The warmth and gentle rocking of the vehicle and the presence of a pirate combined to send Emma into a doze. When she woke, it was to Killian gently lifting her and carrying her into their house, settling her on the couch with an honest-to-god genuine grilled cheese from Granny's in her lap. He stoked a fire to life and then slid off her boots before pulling her socked feet in his laps and gently rubbing them back to life. When she was finished and started nodding off, she curled into his form and he remained under her, squeezed onto the couch.

It was perfect and everything she had wanted since she said goodbye to him weeks ago. Emma was nearly asleep when she heard the door knock. She felt Killian shift under her and groaned at the loss of contact when he stood. She stilled, listening in case there was some major event that was going to take her or her pirate-shaped pillow from a nap.

(It would have to be a hell of an incident too. Like, she might just choose to sleep through armageddon. Fuck it.)

She heard a brief greeting.

"Dave-"

Then the unmistakable sound of flesh-meeting-flesh, and the faint jingle of keys.

"Who the hell sends a pregnant lady on a scavenger hunt?!"

The slamming of the door followed, and she had to bite her lip to keep from giggling as the couch dipped with weight again and Killian shifted under her once more.

"Learn your lesson bastard?"

"Aye, my love. Your father throws a hell of a punch."

She snuggled further into him. "Good."

Sometimes, it was nice to be cared for.